


the space between my fingers (where yours fit perfectly)

by kewltie



Category: K-pop, Super Junior
Genre: Heavy Angst, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 12:46:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11714682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kewltie/pseuds/kewltie
Summary: In the middle of the night Donghae gets a phone call.





	the space between my fingers (where yours fit perfectly)

**Author's Note:**

> this isn't the fic that i wanted to write but it's the fic that i had to write anyway, sorry /o\\. i didn't wake up and intend to break ppl's heart but it sort of happen anyway so yea. title taken from vanilla twilight by owl city.

The call comes to him when he is sleeping. It always come when he's sleeping. Never in the wake of day or at a time when he is available to take the call. The time can vary between midnight and all the way to five AM and though the message may differ each time, the voice on the other end of the line is always achingly familiar.

There's no pattern to the calls, sometimes he gets it once a month and other times he get several calls in a roll in just a one week period. The calls are sporadically at best but Donghae comes to expect it like subroutine that is deeply ingrained in him and one he is not able to break free from.

  
\---

 

The first thing Donghae does after he woke up is check his cellphone. It takes sometimes for his weary eyes to adjust to the brightly lit screen but it’s there, as clear as day: _You have a new voicemail._ Donghae doesn’t allow himself to let out a sigh of relieve but it been sixteen days since the last time he’d received a call.

He briefly stares at notification before rolling out of his bed, still gripping tightly to his cellphone. He takes it with him out toward the kitchen and places it on the counter top as he makes his breakfast. It’ll be one of those days, he knows, and a breakfast would do him some good even as he could feel his walls are crumbling down at the _waiting_ and _expectation_.

He quickly makes his breakfast and cleans after himself before doing anything else, stalling for time despite him glancing at his cellphone every few minutes to make sure it’s still there on the countertop, as if it’ll disappear any seconds if he turned away and the only visible connection that Donghae has to _him_ will vanish.  

When he has nothing else to occupied his time, the kitchen is spotless (something he had to get used to doing after—after what had happened), the food is done, and there’s no need for Donghae to go to hop on his bed and crawl over the sleeping figure laying still on the other side of the bed and wake them up slowly with kisses peppered over their face and laying on top of their body till they stir, not anymore. 

He sighs, it’s about time anyway. No use delaying it now, but there’s a tightness in his chest and his hands shake with trepidation. Donghae slaps his cheek and washes his face to clear his head, he breathes in and out till his nerves have finally calm down.

Donghae brings his breakfast, a simple egg sandwich and a glass of milk for this morning, and his cellphone to the kitchen island. He gets himself situated comfortably before touching his cellphone screen and clicks on the voicemail notification.

While the call is made to his voice inbox, Donghae puts it on speaker and takes a bite from his sandwich.

"You have one new voice message," the robotic voice greets him from his cellphone and Donghae chews on his food as he listens in.

There is a several seconds static of noise before he hears a fraught: " _Donghae_ ," Hyukjae slurs over the speaker, and Donghae's heart stirs at Hyukjae calling out his name with such intimacy that he hadn’t heard in a while.  

There’s a mix of boisterous laughter and people speaking loudly over each other in the background, the crowd is rowdy and demanding but Hyukjae’s voice is all he could hear. Hyukjae was probably out at a bar with his friends when he made this call and by the slight slurred of Donghae’s name, Hyukjae was most _definitely_ drunk.

Not surprising to Donghae since Hyukjae would never have made the phone call if he was sober, Donghae knows it all too well. Hyukjae has always wrapped up his feelings in tightly knit ball, shielded behind ten foot tall walls made of reasons and the fear of letting people in who can wreck him keep the walls high and strong (Donghae was able to slipped through his defenses but only to teared him apart, and that was Hyukjae's mistake and Donghae deepest regret).

Donghae getting Hyukjae to admit to anything was like pushing a boulder up a hill, it was a constant struggle that fed into Donghae’s insecurity and Donghae had tried so hard to be understanding, to not need the constant affirmation but it wasn’t enough and Hyukjae had realized it all too late, they were already falling apart.

There’s a bit of shuffling on the other side and Hyukjae breathes into the speaker, almost like he’s here with Donghae and Donghae could almost let himself believe it. "H-hey, how are you? It's late, yea, I know but today, one of my coworkers mentioned about the new—uh what was it, oh yea the new penguin exhibit opening in the Coex Aquarium coming up this weekend and I immediately thought about you. I remember you were looking forward to it before—before we,” a stifles silent, then, “broke up. You whined to me to take you there when it finally open but I wasn’t sure my schedule would be clear that day. You ended being so mad at me that you refused to talk to me for four days and I freaked out so badly that I ended up pre-ordering tickets to the penguin exhibit just to get you to talk to me again. You always did had me wrapped around your fingers and there was nothing I wouldn’t have done for you,” Hyukjae says, laughing brokenly. “I wonder if you even remember that at all.”

Donghae places his nearly finished sandwich down and grips tightly onto the glass of milk, he remembers it. He even had the new penguin exhibit marked down on his calendar and had been counting down the days for it until Hyukjae had apologetic told them that some vital business that had came up and he can no longer go with Donghae, so Donghae should take a friend with him instead.

Donghae had locked himself in their bedroom for two days before Hyukjae could coax him out and when he looked at the shadow beneath Hyukjae’s eyes and the weariness that he carried, anger and resentment had given away to the guilt and he forgave Hyukjae, again and again. He knows very well that he couldn’t blame Hyukjae, because Donghae was free-lance writer who can barely afford to put food on their table so Hyukjae had to work hard to feed both of them and that meant Hyukjae overworked himself just to keep them living the life they were use but at what cost. Donghae barely got to see Hyukjae as it is, with him leaving early in the morning and coming home in the dead of night so tired and exhausted that he couldn’t even bring himself to greet Donghae and immediately collapsed on their bed. Donghae spent more time by himself in there large expansive condo that it almost like he was the only one living there.

“Oh and I been taking Nemo to the dog park that you suggested and it seems like he made a friend there. I finally got him to sit and roll over at my command, he ever knows how to play catch now,” Hyukjae says, and there’s pride in his voice.

Hyukjae had bought Donghae’s a beautiful Maltese puppy for Donghae’s birthday, promising they would raise him together but Donghae ended up being the one to feed, walk, and play with Nemo. When Donghae moved out of their condo, he left Nemo with Hyukjae because Hyukjae’s condo must feel barren and lonely with just Hyukjae so Donghae made the difficult decision to give Nemo to Hyukjae. In the end, no matter how much leaving Nemo had been hard on him, he couldn’t stand Hyukjae being alone by himself with no one to take care of him and watch over him. Nemo is Donghae stands in and he hopes that will quench Hyukjae’s loneliness at least, even if that means Donghae’s small apartment is cold and stifling with no laugh or joy. Though that means he couldn’t see Nemo anytime like he wanted to or else he’ll might crumble and try to take Nemo back, he doesn’t want to do that Hyukjae when Hyukjae had finally been able to make some sort of connection with Nemo.

But a part of him is tied up in jealousy over how close two of them are now without him by their side, though he doesn’t know who he is jealous, Nemo or Hyukjae.

Hyukjae voice drops to a low quiet murmur as he says, “He misses you, you know. Come over and see him sometimes, because when I see him staring at your favorite seat in the living room as if he expect you to be there, it’s heartbreaking.”

Donghae breath hitches and he has his hands tangle up together. He casts a glance over the pictures all over his refrigerator: Nemo and him at Nemo’s first birthday party (the one where Hyukjae couldn’t make it), Nemo splashing in a muddy puddle, Nemo and his name sake together (a giant plush doll that Hyukjae got him as an apology for missing their anniversary) on the bed, and nine more pictures of Nemo and him in varying of states but none of them has Hyukjae in it.

“Don’t let what happened between us stop you from seeing him,” Hyukjae continues. “I don’t want you to hold yourself back because of me and—“

“Who you callin’, Hyukjaeeeee,” another voice interrupts Hyukjae and Donghae freezes up because he knows who it is.  

“Junsu bugger off, I’m talking,” Hyukjae snaps.

“Hey, hey is that ex of yours? Ya know the one that ripped out your heart out and stomped on it on it like it was scum under his shoes? What does that bastard want?” Junsu grumbles.

There is a slight scuffle on other side of the line and Donghae could hear Hyukjae demanding Junsu to go away and Junsu fighting him on it. Their break-up was bad on their circle of friends, with of their friends taking side and animosity building between them, each side blaming the other for the fall out of their relationship, when Donghae and Hyukjae refuses to say another word about it.

It was ugly but Donghae can’t blame anyone except themselves for letting it get this far and letting their friends get drag into their mess of a relationship.

Hyukjae comes back on the phone a couple of seconds later, after apparently having rid of Junsu. “Sorry that was Junsu,” a pause, then, “don’t mind him Donghae, he doesn’t mean it.”

Even when Hyukjae is drunk, he’s more sensible than most. Donghae always hated that part of Hyukjae, because while Hyukjae is more honest with his feelings when he’s not sober, Donghae is just a sad drunk who pulls out old memories of his ex and cries over it. Occasionally, he doesn’t even need to be drunk to do it either.

There's a long pause on the other end and Donghae waits, his fingers tapping against the rim of the glass.

“But it’s true isn’t it?” He lets out a dry laugh, and Donghae winces at how painful that sound. “You just up and left me just like that. No notice, no talking over it, you just _left_. Even then—Donghae, Donghae, _Donghae_ , you're still in my head and I can't get you out. It's _awfu_ _l._ It’s like you never left at all. Why can't you leave me alone? Junsu had set me up on several blind dates in the past week and they been great and amazing. None of them fall asleep when I talk about my job, they don’t think of it as _boring_ and it was fun with them but—but instead I think of you laughing at my dumb jokes, the way you wrinkle your nose when you’re humoring me, and how your eyes light up when you’re delighted with something.”

Donghae’s breath catches in his throat and his vision narrows as he stares intently at his cellphone. He holds himself apart from his cellphone because the desire to grab it and call Hyukjae back is almost overwhelming, he’s shaking with so much want and it’s all Hyukjae’s fault.  

_Why are you only saying it now?_ Donghae thinks bitterly, clasping his hands tightly together that they go white straining for blood.

“You’re all I see,” Hyukjae continues, sounding so raw and open. “I look for you in the crowd of strangers, I hear your voice in my dreams, and if I close my eyes I can almost imagine you’re there with me. You have _ruined_ me Donghae, I hate you.”

Then, deafening silent from Hyukjae and Donghae lets out a shaky breath. Oh, Hyukjae, Donghae thinks, you have ruined me too. He can’t even stand any other touch but Hyukjae and he hates how even when there’s nothing that tied them together anymore, he clings helplessly to these phone calls when Hyukjae is so drunk that he can’t even remember what he said the next day but everything he said to Donghae is like a kiss upon Donghae’s bruised heart, engraved and marked up with all the things he never said to Donghae until now.

“I’m sorry, that was terrible of me,” Hyukjae says, clearing up his throat. “I don’t even know why I’m calling you when there’s nothing between us anymore but _Donghae_ ,” and the way he says Donghae’s name, it’s so wretched and full of need, “I just—I want you to know that I—I still, I—”

He doesn't finish but Donghae knows the words anyway. It's the same mantra constantly playing in his own battered heart: _I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean that, I just miss you so much, I love you and you said you love me too, so why did we end like this?_ But the words will never come out for either of them.

“I hope you're good and happy,” Hyukjae says instead, and his voice going soft. “I’ll see you around then. Good night." A click and Hyukjae’s slips through Donghae’s fingers once again. Always so intangible and impossible to hold on to, and that was the downfall of their relationship. Donghae was Hyukjae’s but Hyukjae was never truly his. Hyukjae belongs to his job and everything else, Donghae was so used to playing second fiddle that sometimes he feel like he’s the mistress and Hyukjae’s work is his leading lady.

He knows that he’s not being fair to Hyukjae but there’s too many broken promises, cancel dates, and jealously and insecurity that bellied their entire relationship. He tries to be understanding, to be helpful, and to be a good boyfriend but it feels empty and false.

And when he demand Hyukjae for his time instead, he’s being selfish, entitled, and needy. The one at fault for asking too much, for wanting more than Hyukjae could give, and needing to be the center of Hyukjae’s world. He was just so worn out of being that person and so he let Hyukjae go. He didn’t _leave_. He just let _go._ He couldn’t hold on anymore, it had hurt too much and there was too many slamming doors and bitter arguments rehashing again and again between them and Donghae was tired of hanging on.

Being with Hyukjae is like dancing on the edge of an open fire, the flames are beautiful and tempting but the closer he gets to it the hotter it burns, so Donghae had to get out before he is reduced to ashes and there would be nothing of him left. He was afraid that if he stay any longer he’ll start to resent Hyukjae and he couldn’t let that happen.

Donghae hands start to tremble, and he has to blink away the tears that were about to break out. This is the choice he made and he can’t go back. He tighten his fists and draws in his breath and breathes out as his world re-shifts again and everything is a quiet murmurs in the back of his head.

The next time that Donghae will see Hyukjae, Hyukjae won't mention the late night drunken phone call and Donghae won't bring it up either. They'll never speak of it and like all the things that are still left unsaid between them, it hangs between them like the specter of an old regret.

The should of, could of, and would of die on his tongue the day he said, “ _I can’t do this anymore, Hyukjae_.”

Except if it was that easy to cut himself completely from Hyukjae then he wouldn’t be listening to Hyukjae’s drunken phone call in the early morning. They are two people caught in each other's orbit and Donghae was only deluding himself to think that he had broken free of it's gravity.

"Save new message?" the robotic voice asks and Donghae taps on the phone to save it.

"You have twenty-six saved messages," it says. “Do you want to listen to them again?”

Donghae taps again for a yes and gets up, picking up his empty dish and glass. He heads toward the sink as his phone crackles over the speaker and Hyukjae’s voice comes out of it again.

"Hey, I know you’re probably sleeping but it’s me,” a heavy sigh. “Donghae, I—“

The vicious cycle of hurt and longing continues despite their break up. In some way, Donghae and Hyukjae were terrible together but they are worst at being apart.

 


End file.
